


Cookies for blows?

by catsinspats



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cookies, Humor, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, cookies are an acceptable exchange for blowjobs apparently, idfk how this tagging thing works, two idiots being adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 02:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7203584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsinspats/pseuds/catsinspats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean liberates some cookies from a refreshment table on a job. Sam wants one. Threats ensue.</p>
<p>No actual sex, though the word blowjob is in there a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookies for blows?

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo... This is my first fanfic I've ever posted? I was on Instagram and I happened to find a cute post from Tumblr (I have a habit of screenshotting those "Imagine your OTP" posts and writing the prompt for later) which said:
> 
> "Give me a cookie."  
> "What the fuck are you going on about?"  
> "I just saw you shove an entire plate of cookies from the buffet into your back give me one."  
> *grumbles profanities but hands one over*
> 
> And I thought it was adorable so this little blip was more. Lemme know if you like it and I might do more? I've got tons of these on my computer but I've always been scared to upload them. 
> 
> Also I'm bad at titles can you tell *sobs hysterically*

            Slowly, Dean prowled to the side of the room. There they were, nestled upon wide, white platters and generously stacked into small mountains of sugary deliciousness. He’d been eyeballing the platters for nearly the entire time they’d been at the church’s twice annual whatever-it-was, Dean couldn’t quite remember the exact name, but he knew for a _fact_ that no one had even touched them. He would know – Dean had had a lock on those cookies from the second he stepped into the banquet hall.

 

            With all of the stealth he had gained in his twenty-odd years of hunting the various creatures that went bump in the night, Dean crept closer and closer to the table. Finally once he was in reach, Dean began methodically snatching up those delightful cookies and stuffing them into any pocket he could get them to, peering around intermittently to make sure no one was watching.

 

            Just as Dean sidled away from the table to go and eat his cookies in peace, he felt the familiar warm weight of his brother against his side. Where Sam had come from exactly, Dean wasn’t sure, but he blamed it on the cookies. It was hard to concentrate on your moose of a brother sneaking up on you when you had somewhere in the neighbourhood of fifteen-twenty cookies lining your pockets and were eagerly anticipating stuffing your face with said cookies.

 

“Gimme a cookie.” Sam hissed. Dean barely restrained his possessive growl.

 

            “ _What_?” Dean snapped, gently slapping Sam’s paw away from one of the – correctly guessed – cookie holding pockets of his jacket.

 

            “I just saw you get like fifteen from the buffet table two minutes ago. Gimme a damn cookie.” Sam tried again, even as his hand quested to another pocket in search.

 

            “Why? They’re _mine_.” Dean said, holding the whine back behind his teeth. Sam’d had them on some sort of rabbit-food diet for the past month and apparently the restrictions on sweets were getting to both of them and not just Dean, who had been without any sort of cookie or cake or even _pie_ for an entire month.

 

            “I swear to fucking God, Dean, hand over the cookie or I won’t blow you for a week.” Sam threatened. Dean blanched, but held his composure. He wouldn’t turn to look his brother in the face – if he did, Dean would break immediately. In fact, Dean would put _money_ on his brother already prepping the puppy dog eyes in order to get to Dean’s cookies.

 

            “C’mon, Sammy, s’just a cookie.” Dean pleaded. Sam snorted.

 

            “Two weeks.” He snarled. With a loud huff, Dean relented.

 

            “ _Fine_. Goddammit. Here, take the damn thing.” Dean grumbled, fishing one of the sugar cookies out of his pocket. Not the pocket Sam had first gone for, though. It wouldn’t do to let his brother know there were really cookies in that one, or he’d exploit it like the little manipulator that he was.

 

            “Dunno why you’re being so pissy about it. You literally have fourteen more.” Sam responded, examining his cookie though for what Dean wouldn’t be able to say. It wasn’t poisoned. At least, Dean hoped not.

 

            “Shut up.” Dean grumbled in response, digging out a chocolate chip cookie and biting it in half with a soft groan. He’d forgotten how _good_ chocolate was. It was like heaven in a little sugary shell.

 

            “Hey, wait, I want a chocolate chip one. Sugar is boring.” Sam yelped, shoving the sugar cookie back at Dean.

 

            “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why didn’t you specify then you little shit? _Here._ ” Dean said, exasperated, even as he dug through his pockets for another chocolate chip to hand over. Sam beamed when he was handed the chocolaty confection and Dean nearly snorted. So easy to please, his little brother was.

 

            “You can have the boring one back since you’re boring.” Sam chuffed, pushing the sugar cookie at Dean once more even as he shoved the entirety of the chocolate chip one into his mouth and began chewing. Dean took it back with a grumble.

 

            “That didn’t even make sense, you dick.” Dean huffed.

 

            “Yeah it did. Thanks for the cookie. I might even give you a blowjob later.” Sam said, though his voice was a bit muffled by the amount of cookie he was working through.

 

            “That’s the least you could do since I shared my booty with you.” Dean snorted.

 

            “What, are you a pirate now? It was just a cookie, it’s not like it was the goddamn crown jewels.” Sam asked after he’d swallowed his cookie.

 

            “Felt like it.” Dean grumbled, a small frown pulling at the corners of his mouth even at the promise of a possible blow.

 

            “Quit your bitching and help me. Your window of opportunity for that blow is getting smaller and smaller the longer we argue about this.” Sam announced. Dean’s entire body swung around to stare at his brother, eyes going impossibly wide.

 

            “There’s a _window_?” He yelped. Sam gave a small, evil little grin.

 

            “Yeah. Twenty minutes from when you handed me the cookie. Now come _on_ , help me find the damn cursed whatever-it-was.” The younger prodded.

 

            “It’s a crucifix, smartass.” Dean grumbled, even as he started scanning the room for the thing. From what they knew, it was big, clunky, overly elaborate, and attached to it was a severely pissed off spirit who was going around attacking women who were living in sin.

 

            “Don’t care. Got a cookie. Window’s down to eighteen minutes. Better hurry it up or no blow for Dean.” Sam sing-songed. Dean gave an angry little grumble, but kept looking.

 

            “Asshole.” He muttered.

 

            “You love my asshole.” Sam chirped, hands going back to Dean’s pockets in search of another cookie. Dean gave in much quicker and with much less argument this time around. So what if he wanted a blowjob? A cookie, he reasoned, was a good trade.

 

            “Well, _yeah_ , but not the point, Sammy.” Dean griped back even as he zeroed in on the thing – just as horrifyingly ugly as they’d figured.

 

            Dean ended up getting _two_ blowjobs later that night after they’d destroyed the crucifix and he’d sustained a lovely bruise across his ribs. One was an ‘I’m sorry you got hurt,’ blow and the second was a ‘Thanks for the cookies,’ blow. Turned out cookies were a _very_ good exchange for blowjobs. Who’d have known?


End file.
